In the valley of Baca the autumn rains came, slowly, expectedly as the parched ground had begged them to arrive.

With desperate lips, the dirt drinks, offering nourishment unto the grass that is now yellow with age. The smell hangs in the air, and all is right in the world for that moment. Darkness settles in, and nourishment continues to fall from the sky, occasionally becoming harsh, but constantly giving, persistently seeking out new life.

A flash of light, a clap of thunder, the gods dance overhead. Chaos begins, and the dirt, now mud begs for a reprieve—at least for a time. Nevertheless, they continue to dance.

The water spills off the embankments forming a monster that no man can stop. Twisting, commanding, splashing, spilling, all signs of life shudders at this creation.

Each voice, begs for mercy, that they might live for another day. The creature knows no such mercy and it turns murky brown, drunk on its victim’s blood. In one flowing motion, the fiend empties itself into the depths.

It becomes lethargic once again. Peace reigns, at least until the next dance of the gods.

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Your Title was the lure. I came, I read, and I was intrigued by the visions of rain, rain and more rain - and how it nourished the earth...but the Topic of "river", I did not find. However; I always enjoy entries that are short, sweet and to the point; the point being: the rains will come again, and the gods will dance again...but me? I'm still looking for the river.
Seriously - I loved the writing, the thoughts and the poetic view of rain. Very nice.